I tried to be the bigger man, but once again, I can't.
How does love work?
Honestly, I need to know the trick of the trade. I need to stop going to bed with the notion that peoples' minds change in nanoseconds and they're all bastards acting on a whim. I need to psycho myself into believing that people are more than lipstick stains, trash talk and the lingering smell of stale hypocrisy. All I want is to revel in the security you provide without my prompting.
All I need is your attention.
Do you know how lovely it is to have your hair stroked without first placing your hand on his thigh? Or to be kissed before you even pucker up. To know that, despite time eroding the sensitivity of nerve endings and visual receptors the sight of you still knocks the wind out of him. The tiniest gestures, the ones you used to pay attention to.
I want to stop feeling like a god damn obligation. These days I feel like a bag of party tricks you mastered and now it's sitting on your shelf and when you've exhausted your options you know I'm still good to entertain. I think it's sad how much I try to mask, try to let go of and tell myself I'm being too sensitive. I'm pretty good at jokes with you now, matter of fact, the biggest one is me. Is it sad I'm crying now?
Because it's the little things that fall out of line of your vision. And every minute spent in blissful ignorance is another hour spent in my bed just thinking about how every single time I end up being the one who invests too much, tries too hard, and gets walked out on.
It doesn't have to happen this time too, please, it can't.
Or, maybe I just need to get the fuck out of here.
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